October wind,
hardly a cricket.
What's inside
curls into itself,
loses its color
like the maple.
Hardly a crow,
only a last blaze
of sun as if to
apologize for
all that's gone
in my sleeve,
it could be my
heart. You're
not losing any
sleep. You're
not even bruised.
Only your shirts,
violet, blue as
bruises. You
were in every
room, ratcheting.
Black bruise
Monday. I am
going to have
to take back
my key
my heart's wrapped
with barbwire.
You're not even
wounded, have
no idea. Your
same facile grin,
not even a head
ache, less pain
than a paper cut.
I'm walking in
dead clothes,
the moon is as
it always was. You
never were more
than fantasy,
sweet talk
leaving a mess
like a melted
candle
Lyn Lifshin's Another Woman Who Looks Like Me was published by Black Sparrow in 2006 and selected for the 2007 Paterson Award for Literary Excellence. Also out in 2006 was The Licorice Daughter: My Year with Ruffian from Texas Review Press. Lifshin's recent books include Before It's Light (Black Sparrow, 2000), Cold Comfort (Black Sparrow, 1997), In Mirrors (Presa Press), Upstate: An Unfinished Story (Foot Hills) and The Daughter I Don't Have (Plan B Press). Her poems have appeared in most literary and poetry magazines and she is the subject of a film, Lyn Lifshin: Not Made of Glass, from Women Make Movies. Her web site is www.lynlifshin.com.
Comments (closed)
Alex Nodopaka
2010-03-05 12:14:56
Lynn,
Nice thematic 3-some... Appreciate the stashing of the image in the sleeve... I see it as wiping a tear.
I'll use "agonizing clothing" in a future poem... I love the simile here.